Redhead

A WEEK AGO, a local bird expert alerted me to a single male Redhead, a diving duck not often seen in Port Townsend. He’d sighted the bird on a golf-course pond just a few blocks from my house. Naturally, I headed down there. The pond is surrounded by a small wetland filled with cattail, which makes it a flirtatious playground for about a dozen male and female Red-winged blackbirds. Blackbirds are a bird from my childhood on the midwestern prairie. Their songs and calls are familiar, and they are generous in sharing them. I’m always happy to see them and even forgive them for alerting other more skittish birds to my presence.

THE REDHEAD was easy to spot amongst the many shovelers and other ducks on the pond. Despite the blackbirds, the ducks appeared unperturbed by me. The cattails provided good cover. Early sunset rays peaked through the cloud cover and every now and again the bird would helpfully position his rust-colored head and bright yellow eye to catch the light. Still, my first set of pictures were disappointing. I readjusted the autofocus settings on my new camera—really a sophisticated computer with a lens attached—and returned the next afternoon, with greater success. I thought I’d photographed a pair of Redheads that was hanging out together. And the male was in mating mode—his bowed head here preceded a characteristic upward thrust of his neck. But upon seeing the photos, a better birder said, no, the female was a Ring-necked duck. I later read that Rednecks do occasionally mate with Ring-necks. Perhaps, but this Ring-necked female was having none of it that day.

Nikon Z9, 700mm, 1/800th second @ f8, ISO 1400